


By Your Side

by cyavillain



Category: Naruto
Genre: Angst, Hand Jobs, Hokage!Obito, M/M, Smut, a canon death will be mentioned, he's not made out of sugar and spice and everything nice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-25
Updated: 2019-05-25
Packaged: 2020-03-17 08:51:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18961939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cyavillain/pseuds/cyavillain
Summary: Obito has a complicated past and a controversial approach to his new position as the Fifth Hokage. But he shares his life with Kakashi.





	By Your Side

**Author's Note:**

> One of the KakaObi week 2k19 prompts was about Hokage!Obito, but I never had time to write that story. However, the idea was pretty appealing. So, here we are, a few months later with my Hokage!Obito fic. I had so much fun writing this, I hope that you'll enjoy the story as well, lovely readers. (:

The crescent moon shone through the open window. 

All the lights were off. Obito couldn’t deal with their artificial brightness. His head was hurting too much for that. He’d stopped reading the latest report from Suna an hour ago. The cursed piece of paper said the same thing that every single letter from the area stated.

No peace treaty today.

A hopeless feeling crept over Obito. It tightened his chest and twisted his guts, mocking the useless attempts to find a resolution. 

This system was trash, and nothing could be done in order to liberate people from the suffering it caused. 

The pointless conflict between Konoha and Suna wasn’t going to stop just because Minato had decided to throw the hat at someone seemingly less hostile. 

Oh, no, not at all.

The problem with this unfortunate promotion was that Suna didn’t trust in an Uchiha’s intentions. Neither did Konoha. People assumed that there was a hidden agenda in the peace negations, and whilst the clan had pretty much disowned Obito, that part wasn’t common knowledge. Everybody saw what they wanted to see. Minato had failed to take this risk into account. He’d named Obito as his successor in hopes of getting away with his own failures. 

Hells, Obito had told the old dimwit that one person wasn’t going to change the tide of war overnight.

But whilst the promotion was Minato’s screw-up, Obito had only himself to blame for the current situation. He hadn’t turned down the offer. Childish optimism – a tiny glimmer of hope – had prevented him from doing that. 

In an ideal world, a little bit of power meant the ability to influence others. Obito had wanted to point out that the shinobi were much more than just replaceable flesh cannons and that the narrative of their superiors was just tendentious gibberish. Those views were dismissed as desperate smack talk because this bitch of a reality was far from excellent.

The state propaganda had made people of Konoha stupidly stubborn to die for causes that weren’t real. As long as people felt compelled to fight _for the village_ , peace wouldn’t exist.

The useless letter was still on the desk, open and ignored.

Fuck that.

The paper crumbled in Obito’s fist before the balled up mess got thrown to the other side of the room. There was no point in replying. Suna wasn’t looking for a dialogue, and neither were the citizens of Konoha.

A newly promoted misfit couldn’t stop a war alone. Even if there were a couple of pacifists out there, the vast majority kept thinking that the ongoing conflict was all about honor. They wished to die in a battle.

Their wishes would eventually come true. 

Obito didn’t have a chance to prevent that. He regretted coming back to the village. 

About two decades ago, he’d had a chance to make a difference. A world without wars and suffering had sounded too good to be true back then. 

But still… 

Obito had almost left his old life behind to work on something much grander than himself. He’d stopped caring about Konoha the moment _she_ took her last breath, whispering Kakashi’s name for one last time.

The office walls felt like a cage as the shadows on them grew taller.

Obito took a deep inhale, letting the cool night air flow through him. He wasn’t going to let his mind go there. 

It was half-past ass, and Kakashi was staying gone. He’d said that he would be back by dark.

But his promises were always, always, fucking always trash.

It wasn’t surprising, and it didn’t matter.

His company wasn’t that great. 

Sometimes Obito wondered why he kept the poor bastard around. They weren’t even close. 

A faint remnant of the last night’s shame tingled Obito’s skin. He laughed it off with a hoarse chuckle. 

People talked a lot. 

“The Fifth sleeps with his right-hand man,” the entire village said without knowing that the rumors were true, so much so that Obito felt Kakashi all over him all the time.

Even now.

Their affair was insignificant, too.

Besides, Kakashi had it worse. His skin was mostly scar-free, but it didn’t heal fast enough to be unbruised by now.

He had yet to return, and the clock was ticking. Either he was dead or speaking with the dead because all the other alternatives were unlikely.

Obito fixed his gaze on the wall in front of him, nibbling the scar on his lip. 

It was one of those nights, he thought, shifting his position.

The Hokage office wasn’t meant to be a prison but it sure felt like one even when there were zero factors to stop Obito from leaving. Chains and walls weren’t able to hold him. The worst shackles were in his head. He had a fundamental need to cleanse the society from the filth that the current system represented. It was his cage.

Kakashi kept saying that people didn’t deserve anything better than what they already had. War was what they wanted. Maybe he was right.

But it was him who _needed_ much more than this pitch black hell had in store for him.

This didn’t mean that Kakashi was somehow special. He was just one person who was worth as much as anyone else.

And people were big fat piles of nothing. 

That didn’t stop Obito from hoping the best for humanity.

He was sick of seeing his only friend defeated and miserable – tired of witnessing how the only friends of others got pulled away.

The moonlight was too bright. 

Obito squeezed his eye shut. He hated himself for taking Kakashi back to Konoha all those years ago. He loathed the fact that he’d thrown away the only opportunity to create a new, better world where there was no war or death. 

Where she could exist.

Obito didn’t know what to do. His best hope was that Madara had kept an eye out for several different brats and chosen another one to execute the plan. The plan B could still exist. Obito had never told anyone about the year he’d been trapped. 

Kakashi didn’t count. He’d seen the artificial flesh that had replaced Obito’s right arm. No one else knew about the missing limb. People suspected all sorts of things but no one – not even Kakashi – had been able to determine the extent of Obito’s injuries.

Besides, a memory loss after a severe trauma wasn’t uncommon. 

Minato had convinced the council that the T&I’s services weren’t necessary when Obito had been questioned about his disappearance. Guilt worked wonders.

So, all hope wasn’t gone.

Obito had made a mistake, though. 

He should’ve never listened to those pathetic begs of Kakashi’s. 

They’d both known that operating from the inside of Konoha was futile.

Useless.

This had to end. 

The haori on Obito’s shoulders felt heavy. He wiggled out of it before standing up and moving away from the desk.

At least the night sky was pretty even though there was too much light. A cold breeze blew through the open window. Obito closed it and drew the curtains. He sensed a familiar presence nearby. 

Soon enough, there was a knock on the door.

But Kakashi came and went how he pleased. Obito didn’t waste his breath by answering. He wasn’t moving, nor was he turning around.

Muffled voices drifted from the hallway. The guards knew to let Kakashi walk in. 

“Another late night, huh?” he commented right after walking in and shutting the door behind him. 

“You said that you weren’t going to take too long,” Obito replied. He didn’t feel like facing Kakashi. 

“Yeah, sorry about that,” Kakashi wasn’t sorry at all. 

They both knew it.

“Whatever,” it was a lie. They always told lies to one another.

“Maa, time flies when you’re chatting with an old friend,” Kakashi said. The nonchalant tone almost hid the unsaid part. Apparently, he’d visited the graveyard. Ears were everywhere, and Kakashi did speak to that one tombstone. He was becoming more and more careless.

An old ache in Obito’s heart began to throb until it became clear that the feeling was impossible to squash down. The damn burn wasn’t going away. 

Kakashi didn’t get to bring it back.

Not like this, not again.

Obito turned around and walked across the room. 

“Whatever,” he repeated, stressing the syllables.

“Someone’s in a mood,” Kakashi concluded. “And now we’re even violating state property,” he added as Obito grabbed the straps of the black flak jacket, yanking harder than what was necessary. 

“State property?” Obito hissed. “Is that what you identify as?” he forced himself to take a good look at Kakashi. He memorized everything about it, including the stupid beauty mark he saw after pulling Kakashi’s mask down. The image of it was worth savoring. Their lips crushed together and came apart. 

Again and again. 

Intimacy was the only language they had in common. 

Their hips clashed together, and Kakashi was getting hard. 

“You’re pathetic,” Obito breathed into the kiss, panting heavily out of sheer spite. He hated the way Kakashi’s chest rose up and down, he detested the sensation of an arching body against his.

One hard yank later, Kakashi groaned. The word _hypocrite_ hung in the air unarticulated but implied. The tension grew with every desperate grasp, pumping Obito’s veins with thrill and adrenaline. 

They were equally pitiful like this. 

Vile.

Obito finally let go of the straps, but not before he had pushed Kakashi against the wall. The motion was rewarded with a moan. 

Now that… 

That sounded more acceptable than the previous bullshit. Obito laid his hand down on Kakashi’s crotch, making sure to enjoy every single spasm of arousal. 

A sharp inhale broke the kiss.

“Obito…”

“You would like that, wouldn’t you? Me ripping you apart,” there wasn’t a real doubt behind the inquiry. Kakashi would love it. The real question was whether such special treatment was earned. 

Kakashi shivered, fumbling for something to caress. His fingertips grazed the side of Obito’s waist, but this farce wasn’t about giving and taking. Obito slapped Kakashi’s hand away since the fucker couldn’t comply with the unspoken command – no touching. Mutual enjoyment was for lovers, which they weren’t. 

Their lips found each other in another kiss. It tasted like reality and disappointment. 

Obito tugged at Kakashi’s lip, not even trying to be gentle. He bit and bit harder, dragging his teeth over Kakashi’s lips until they were raw.

And even though all the moans and whimpers sounded almost satisfying, they still felt plain and meaningless.

Kakashi jerked his hips forward, groaning as his cock pressed against Obito’s palm. Such weakness was unflattering, but there were layers of clothes between them.

Obito slid the glove off his left hand before unbuttoning the flap of Kakashi’s pants. At least he could give a stroke of bare skin even if it wasn’t with his dominant hand.

“You really want it,” Obito murmured as he began to caress Kakashi’s length. 

“ _Yes_ ,” Kakashi breathed out, spreading his legs apart and raising his hips. He was asking for trouble with his pitiful begging because that didn’t suit him at all. 

Obito chose not to care about the unfitting. He trailed his lips along with Kakashi’s jaw and down his neck, dragging the high collar down with his free hand. New marks of abuse were being made. Kakashi greeted them with silent sighs. His cock was leaking profusely as Obito’s teeth sank into his neck. Ragged breathing rattled in the air, beckoning for more. 

This world was filled with all kinds of trash. 

Pain. Suffering. Death.

All of those paled in comparison to human self-interest. Obito despised what he was doing. He was supposed to stop an ongoing conflict – but he couldn’t, and now he was doing _this_ instead. The frustration over it was freed upon Kakashi’s skin, and the useless wuss just fucking cried out of euphoria. 

And ache.

The saddest part was that Kakashi wasn’t going to back off. He welcomed every scratch with a shuddering pant, mumbling incoherent words. No matter how harsh Obito was, his touch was met with no resistance.

“Weak,” Obito spat out only to receive yet another crushing blow.

Kakashi _whimpered_. His cock twitched, soaking Obito’s fingers with arousal. Kakashi was determined to enjoy the turmoil of the situation. No amount of roughness could change that. Perhaps he wasn’t the weak one here. 

Obito swallowed hard, biting back his agitation.

“I could leave you like that,” he reminded as he slid his fingers down the shaft until they reached Kakashi’s balls. “I really should,” silence wasn’t the answer he was looking for. Kakashi hadn’t anything else to give.

Their eyes met. What was intended as a brief glance became a lingering stare. The steel gray iris reflected light and sternness. 

Eventually, there was a flicker of understanding. 

“Don’t,” Kakashi finally spoke. “Please,” his voice was silent. There was no real submission to it, it was all fake. 

The laugh that escaped Obito’s lips was a conceded travesty of a chuckle. It wasn’t aimed at the plea. The funny part was that an allegedly honest moment like this was as forged as the world itself. Whilst accepting this was truly tragic, Obito could appreciate the irony. He’d always been the fool anyway. 

“Guess it’s your lucky day,” he mumbled as he readjusted his grip around Kakashi’s length, giving it a good rub. “You’re cute when you lie.”

Fucking adorable, shivering and all.

Obito leaned forward, letting his lips touch Kakashi’s earlobe gently before bracing himself against the trembling frame between him and the wall. All of those silent sounds of pleasure were followed by equally satisfying thrusts.

Kakashi drove himself into Obito’s fist, pulling back and shoving in, his hands reaching out to grasp anything. Moments later, Obito felt sharp nails sinking into his back, urging him to go harder.

No touching.

That had been stated in the rules. 

Screw them.

Obito wasn’t going to break away from the hold since it was useless. He wasn’t the one in control. Kakashi was. He was arching when a grunt left his lips. 

The harder the strokes got, the louder the moans echoed in the air. This wasn’t what Obito wanted, but he kept going, sucking in Kakashi’s scent.

Their lips met once again, and Obito felt a breathless curse and a tightening grab around his shoulders. It was an opportunity to get touched. This offer was almost worth considering given that there was no pride left to salvage. The first time of fooling around had stripped away the remains of dignity. All of that had been pretty much lost from the start.

So why? Why bother?

Obito broke free from the kiss, heart racing in his chest. It hurt as his eye caught Kakashi’s glance. 

They’d pretended to be lovers for a way too long time. A rare glimpse of vulnerability didn’t change the truth.

They weren’t lovers.

“I wanna see you come,” Obito said. He fondled Kakashi’s length, running his fingers along the underside. “So don’t.”

Kakashi exhaled shakily, then managed a tiny smile before nodding.

“Okay,” his voice was heavy with barely disguised emotion, and his tone got even weirder as he repeated the word, leaning into the spaceless distance to get taken care of. Obito buried his face into Kakashi’s neck, marking the exposed skin with the pattern of his teeth. 

Kakashi’s cock was pulsating, twitching more and more by each stroke. Obito worked his hand up and down the slick shaft, coaxing more stifled cries out of Kakashi. Whilst it was true that there was no affection to give, at least Obito could provide one hell of a sensation. That was more than enough.

He never saw Kakashi come apart.

A low moan escaped Kakashi’s lips, and Obito felt the orgasm all over his fingers, warm and sticky. He was still kissing Kakashi’s neck when the last drops of arousal oozed out of the swollen tip, and the sensation of tensed muscles turned into looseness.

A few seconds went by in silence. 

Slowly, Obito slid his hand out of Kakashi’s pants, pulling away gradually. He was still half-hard and aching from being so untouched. He’d deal with it later – or let Kakashi deal with it, it was still an option.

Right now, there were no words to say. The atmosphere was filled with a sense of false serenity. No speaking since a moment of shared solitude seemed more than suitable. 

Obito used those minutes to tidy up the best he could. He’d turned his back on Kakashi as he felt a light touch placed on his shoulder. 

“It’s been a long day,” Kakashi stated, leaning over to peck Obito’s cheek. “We should go home,” he didn’t have any reason to show gentleness. He did it anyway.

“I have stuff to do,” Obito claimed, but it was a weak protest. He felt Kakashi’s arms wrapping around his waist.

“You always do.”

It was true. And despite that, Obito never got shit done. His chances for meaningful achievements were thin as long as he was at _home_. 

“I hate this job,” Obito mumbled. He tilted his head back to give and receive a kiss.

“You can always just quit,” Kakashi pointed out as their lips parted. “We could run away and start a revolution. Or fake our deaths and live away from all of this with the dogs.”

“Right,” Obito said. An eye-roll was probably the most appropriate answer to this sort of absurdity. 

Even though the idea was appealing.

It was Kakashi’s nonsense that kept Obito from absolutely losing it. Sometimes Obito considered admitting it.

But there was no room for silly confessions. Words were vain, and they didn’t matter. 

They never did.

Not even when Obito felt something wet on his cheek.

He was too jaded for tears but for a while, he was glad about Kakashi’s presence. It was soothing and persistent. Somehow Kakashi’s antics felt less fake than anything else in this miserable realm of existence.

“Don’t I deserve a little bit of your time?” Kakashi asked. The hug tightened.

“All of it,” Obito replied. 

Sincerity didn’t need to sound too genuine, he guessed, as he finally turned around to hold Kakashi closer until they were ready to leave and spend the night reconciling.

And for a while, the world seemed a little more gray than black.


End file.
